It didn’t take
long for Victor’s parents to decide that they didn’t approve of their son’s
decision. Aidan McNeill seemed at first to take it all in stride, though his
displeasure came out more and more in the following days, as he seemed always to
be sullen and quiet. Clara, however, pleaded with her son, weeping at times,
trying to convince him to pursue his earlier course and become a physician.
“Victor,” she
said over and over again, “I really think you should reconsider all this. Go
find Anna, apologize to the girl and ask her to marry you, and move on to your
practice in London .
You’re my only son, Victor, and I want to live to see my grandchildren.”
But the answer
was always the same. “I am bound to my conscience and my faith, Mother. I can’t
turn back now. I will be a missionary.”
Nevertheless,
she continued to plead with him, warning him of the dangers ahead, of the
obstacles of shipwreck and disease, violence and wild beasts. This went on for
several days, as Victor remained around the house for the most part, working in
the garden, talking with Julius, and spending his time in the pages of the
Bible and William Carey’s Enquiry. He
wrote to Dr. Taylor in London ,
informing him of his decision not to join the practice. He also began to seek
information for ships that would be venturing down toward the coast of Africa , but that effort proved fruitless at first.
One morning, a week
after Anna’s birthday ball, Victor rose to a gorgeous, sunlit day and made his
way to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly-brewed tea filled the air, and he
breathed deeply. The golden sunlight was streaming in through the windows,
creating a beautiful, dappled pattern on the hardwood floor.
He smiled
contentedly. Despite the emotional pain of letting go of Anna, he felt
surprisingly whole in spirit—he had a mission to pursue, and that point of
focus held him together when everything else in his life seemed to be spinning
out of control. There was a song in his heart—a new song now, not one of
friendships past but of the road that lay ahead.
Victor took a
seat at the table and sipped a cup of hot tea while paging through his Bible.
He hadn’t managed to down half of the tea before his mother appeared in the
doorway, her dark, wide eyes somewhat bloodshot.
“Mother,” he
said, rising to take her by the shoulders. “You need to get more sleep. Are you
feeling well?”
She drew a deep
breath and shook her head. He walked her to a chair, where she collapsed with a
sigh.
“No, Victor,”
she said when he had taken his seat again across from her. “No, I don’t feel
well. Listen to me, son—I know I’ve been absolutely wretched to you these past
few days—”
“No, Mother,
it’s understandable—”
She held up a
hand, cutting him off. “Just let me speak for a minute…please.”
He nodded
obediently, pouring her a cup of tea while she gathered her strength.
“I was up all
last night. I couldn’t sleep. Sometime after midnight, I began to pray. And it
wasn’t long before I began to see another side of this whole affair. I am
sorry, Victor—sorry to see you go, sorry to be losing my only boy. But I know
that God has called you to this, and I understand that you have to answer—even
though I still don’t like it. But I know that he will give me peace in his own
time. This is something that I need to support you in.”
Victor smiled
gently. “Thank you. That means more to me—well, more to me than I could
possibly find the words to express.”
“Honestly,
though, I still don’t know why you can’t try to persuade Anna Nelson to go with
you,” she said, perking up a bit and offering a smile. She sipped the tea for a
few moments. “I know, I know. You still care for her, and this is your way of
protecting her from danger.”
Victor was
silent, his eyes fixed on the brown tea at the bottom of his cup, which he
swirled around repetitively.
“Well, don’t
feel like I’m pressuring you, son. I expect that we’ll hear soon enough that
she has gotten herself engaged to that naval gentleman.”
“Yes. I suppose
so.”
“I don’t think
you’ll have much success finding a bride among the heathen African tribes,
either.”
“Probably not.”
“Shouldn’t you
be working a little harder at this, then? What about that Carmichael
girl?”
“I’m fairly
certain that Ruben has his eye on her.”
“Well, I think
you should keep your eyes open. There are a lot of good women out there, you
know—many who love the Lord and have hearts bolder than you could dare to
dream.”
“Yes, I suppose
that’s true,” he chuckled, swallowing the last of his tea.
“I’m sorry,
Victor—I don’t mean to be patronizing.”
“You’ve a right
to be concerned, Mother.” He rose and stretched. “We’ll see what comes of it
all soon enough, I imagine. If it’s such a great concern, begin to pray that
the Lord would give me a wife. I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”
She smiled. “My
dear boy, I’ve been praying that for years.”
“Then hopefully
I won’t be able to escape it!” he laughed, turning on his heel. He began to
walk away, but another thought stopped him in his tracks. “I don’t think Julius
is awake yet. But I’ve begun to warm some beans there on the stove for his
breakfast.”
“I’ll make sure
he gets them. Where are you headed today?”
“I have to find
Ruben. I haven’t spoken to him since the ball, and I want to hear his reaction
to all of this. Then I’m going to go to London —I
told you about that, right?”
“Yes, to speak
to the Mission Society. I remember.”
“But I’ll be
back in a few days.”
“Well, don’t
waste your time standing around, son. Go find Ruben. No doubt he’s heard some
of all this already. When a young man spurns the advances of the most beautiful
young lady in town, word begins to get around.”
He winked at
her, throwing a light coat over his shoulders. “It’s been a long time since
I’ve been the center of gossip in this town,” he laughed.
He marched out
the door and over to the stables. A cloud of fog still clung to the lower parts
of the city, and he turned to watch in wonder for a few moments as the heat of
the rising sun began to drive it away. Throwing open the doors, he was greeted
by a sharp whinny. The stables smelled distinctly of hay and horse manure, a harsh
and familiar scent that evoked a desire to be riding on the wind.
“Good morning,
Phaeton,” he called out cheerily. “And why are you so restless, my bold friend?
You’ve already had your breakfast.”
It took a few
minutes to fasten the saddle onto the bay horse’s broad back, and once that was
finished, Victor led him out by his reins. Streams of sunlight washed over
them, and Phaeton nickered happily. Victor climbed into the saddle and drew in
a deep breath.
“Alright, boy,”
he said, “let’s find Ruben.”
With a flick of
the reins, they were off, trotting down the narrow lane that led back into the
city. Ruben lived with his family in a squalid, run-down house on the fringes
of the city, where farmland began to dominate the landscape. It took Victor a
full half-hour to arrive there because he took a circuitous route through the
town, pausing to gaze up at the cathedral spire for a few minutes before
continuing on. Going to London to set up a
practice there was one thing, but sailing for Africa
was quite another. The chances were not in his favor for ever returning to his
hometown again.
Instead of
stopping at the O’Connell house, he rode past it and began down a stretch of
overgrown farm road. Two of Ruben’s youngest brothers and one of his sisters
were playing there in the lane, laughing and shrieking as they tossed pebbles
at each other. But when Victor rode up, they ceased their game and ran up to
greet him.
“Victor!
Victor!”
Grinning
broadly, he dismounted and knelt beside them, ruffling their dirty hair.
“Hello, lads,”
he nodded to the two boys.
Kelly, the girl
of about seven years, stood before him with her little hands on her hips.
Victor smiled at her, and gently took her hand and brought it to his lips.
“Good morning,
my lady,” he said with utter solemnity, at which she giggled and broke out into
a bright smile.
The boys
laughed. “She’s not a lady!”
“Yes, I am!”
she responded indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Take note of
that, lads,” Victor chuckled. “There’ll come a day when you’ll want to impress
a lady or two as well.”
“That’s
disgusting,” said one. “I’ll never want to impress a girl. Girls are dirty.”
Kelly raised a
knowing eyebrow at her brother. “You try to impress girls all the time!”
“No, I don’t!”
“Yes, you do.
What about Sylvia Mercer?”
The boy began
to blush, and Victor laughed, giving him an affectionate cuff on the arm. “Keep
at it, lad. One of these days you’ll catch her eye.”
The boy
appeared unconvinced.
“Is Ruben
working in the fields today?” Victor asked them.
“No,” Kelly
replied, swaying back and forth coyly so that her skirt swirled around her
ankles. Then she looked up and leaned in as if imparting a great secret to him.
“He’s visiting his lady friend.”
“Is that so?”
he laughed. “Miss Carmichael?” Both boys nodded, and Victor shook his head in
wonder. “The boy moves quicker than I expected. Very well then, thank you.” He
rose and was about to climb into the saddle again when Kelly came up beside him
and tugged on his trousers.
“I want to
ride.”
He grinned and
picked her up, setting her at the front of the saddle and clambering up behind.
At this, both boys insisted that they also be allowed to ride, so Victor
promised them that their turns would come, and he spent nearly half an hour
there with them, riding Phaeton back and forth down the little farm road.
When he arrived
at the Carmichael house some time later, he
was in high spirits. Dismounting quickly, he tethered Phaeton to the little
fence and rushed up to the door. He rapped sharply and waited until it swung
open. Patience’s father John stood there, his bulky frame dominating the
doorway.
“Victor
McNeill!” the minister practically shouted, seizing the youth by his shoulders.
“Hello, John.”
“And how are
you doing, friend?”
“Fine, sir. I’ve
come to check on Ruben, if he’s here. I was told he had come to pay a visit to
Patience.”
“Aye, he’s
here. Come on in.”
~
~ ~
Mary knocked
gently on the door—once, twice, but no answer came. She tried the knob, and
carefully swung the door inwards.
“My lady?” she
whispered, glancing around the room. It was a large room, furnished beautifully
with rich tapestries and bright paintings. The curtains of the four-poster bed
were pulled tight, and the maid’s brow furrowed with worry. She marched over to
the glass doors that led out onto a small balcony and pulled them open. Golden
sunlight filled the room in an instant, and sweet-smelling air from the gardens
wafted up over the balcony. Nodding in satisfaction, the maid turned and gazed
at the bed. Anna was peering out at her, her hair disheveled and her eyes
slightly glazed.
“Good morning,
Miss Anna.”
“What time is
it, Mary?”
“A quarter past
nine, my lady. Do you want me to bring breakfast up to you?”
“I shouldn’t
have stayed up so late,” she groaned, throwing herself back onto the bed.
Mary smiled
gently and went to sit on the edge of the mattress. “It wasn’t so late.”
“No,” she
agreed. “But it takes longer to fall asleep now. I must have my time—to
think…to pray…and to forget.”
“There are
other ways of forgetting, my lady.”
“I suppose
there are. I didn’t think it would be so hard to let go.”
Mary gazed out
the window. “Lieutenant Green must leave for Portsmouth in three days’ time,” she said
absently.
“Yes. I know.
He’s being given command of a 14-gun sloop. Sets sail in three weeks, I
believe.”
“But do you
know what that means, Miss Anna?” she turned her head, a knowing eyebrow
raised.
“What are you
getting at, Mary?”
“Well, it’s no
secret…” she blushed. “The Lieutenant has been speaking with Lord Nelson a
great deal of late.”
And in that
instant, Anna knew what her maid was trying to tell her. “Of me? Have they been
speaking of me?”
“Yes, Miss
Anna.”
She let out an
exasperated sigh and collapsed.
Mary glanced over,
surprised at the reaction. “Are you alright, my lady? Can you hear me?” She
jumped off the edge of the bed. “I’ll go get you some water.”
“Sit still for
a moment, Mary,” she called out, rising to sit upright again. “I’ll be fine. I
just need to think of what to do.”
Mary nodded,
still standing, holding her hands clasped before her. She had been gazing
obediently at the floor, but tentatively, she raised her eyes to look at her
mistress.
“Am I right,
then, in thinking that you have no desire to marry the Lieutenant?”
Anna tilted
back her head and drew a deep breath. “Who wouldn’t want to marry a man like
that, Mary? After all, he’s brave…noble…a fine man.”
“A fine man
indeed.”
“But he’s also
a naval officer,” Anna continued, her voice edged with a note of complaint. She
rose from the bed and stretched, taking a few steps toward the balcony. She
stood there for a moment or two, her arms crossed as she gazed out over the
gardens.
“Have I ever
told you how much I dislike what the navy does to families connected to it?”
“My lady?”
She smiled,
running a hand through her tangled black curls. “Oh, how I loved my uncle!
Uncle Horatio. I loved it every time he stopped in, even if it was only for an
afternoon. But then he was gone. That’s the way it is with naval men, Mary.
They can’t ever really marry a girl. They’re married to a ship, and to that
great big ocean out there. I don’t know that I want to live that kind of life,
even with such a fine man as Elijah.”
“All men will
be married to a career, my lady,” Mary said soothingly, taking up a brush from
the table and running it through Anna’s hair.
“Yes,” she
agreed, her eyes gazing contemplatively at some elusive point on the horizon.
“And the woman is not expected to be a part of that work. We must be at home,
and their two worlds shall never meet in any significant fashion. It’s horribly
unfair.”
The servant
laughed. “Then I suppose you must find yourself a man who will let you work
beside him. Find something that both of you can do together.”
“If there were
such a profession and men willing enough to take them up, women would be
flocking to them in hordes, I imagine.”
Mary’s eyes
sparkled. “But suppose it were a profession that we wouldn’t ordinarily think
of. Suppose there’s a task out there in which a man and his wife can work side
by side. As partners for the journey.”
Anna’s eyes
narrowed in thought. “Do you have something specific in mind?”
She shrugged.
“No…no, it was just a thought.”
Mary continued
to try to brush Anna’s hair into some semblance of order while the morning
sunlight streamed through the window and washed over them. Anna drew another deep
breath and looked outside, into that beautiful, verdant world that seemed just
beyond her grasp. Her reality had been replaced with something colorless and
bleak, and it disturbed her. More times than she cared to admit, emotion seized
her innermost thoughts, and try as she might, there were times when she
couldn’t fight it. And this was such a time. She longed to be free, to fight
against the pale future that seemed to be overtaking her, but something within
her lingered behind, working through the grief that still hovered somewhere in
the back of her mind.
“So Elijah will
begin to court me, then,” she breathed.
“Or perhaps
more than that, my lady,” Mary intoned. “His tour of duty is only estimated to
be four months, and he’ll have another brief leave.”
“Then he may
propose, and seek to be wedded in four months.”
Mary was
silent, but in a manner that indicated she knew more than what she had said. It
was not lost on Anna. She took the brush from the maid’s hand and turned to
face her.
“Has he already
asked my father’s permission for my hand?”
Mary nodded
slowly, never breaking her gaze. “Oliver was in the drawing room when it was
asked.” She paused for a moment, and blushed heavily. “I shouldn’t have told
you that, Miss Anna. I’ve spoiled the surprise.”
“No, no, it’s
alright,” she soothed, putting her hands on the servant’s cheeks and raising
her face. “You’ve spoiled nothing. But you have softened the shock and given me
the warning I needed. So now you must help me, Mary. I have no intention of
accepting Elijah’s proposal. At least…I don’t think I will.”
“But surely you
must reflect on it, my lady. He’s a fine man; you said it yourself. And remember
that you’re nineteen now. It’s expected that you must marry soon, lest your
prospects diminish.”
Anna paused and
looked at her. Mary was young, but sometimes her sensitivity and her wisdom
outmatched her years.
“You’re right,
Mary,” she sighed, slumping into a chair. “I’m too impulsive. Part of me
doesn’t want to marry Elijah, but another part of me knows it’s the smart thing
to do. It would be a wise match. I could learn to love him—easily; I know I
could. And I could reconcile myself to being the wife of a seaman. Am I being
selfish, Mary, to focus on what I want right now rather than what would
probably be best in the long run?”
“I don’t know,
my lady,” she replied, barely above a whisper. “No one can answer that question
but you.”
“Hmm. Mary,
will you come riding with me this afternoon?”
She looked at
her mistress uncertainly. “Riding? But there’s work that must be done around
the house. Your mother would not be pleased.”
“Oh, don’t
worry. I can pacify my mother. I need to talk to you about something. Perhaps
you can give me the perspective I lack.”
“Is this about
Master McNeill?”
Anna froze and
looked at her, a coy smile on her lips. “Perhaps. In any case, I might need
your help. Or at least your advice. Will you come?”
“Of course, my
lady, but—”
“Good,” she
replied, moving briskly to the side of the room, where a dressing-wall had been
set up. She walked behind it and started changing out of her nightgown. “Meet
me at the stables at one o’clock.”
Mary nodded and
began to leave the room. “Will you be having breakfast in the dining room then,
my lady?”
“Yes, please,
Mary,” came the reply. “I shall be out shortly.”
“Very good,
Miss Anna.”
~
~ ~
“Africa ?” Ruben let out a whoop of laughter, his face
beaming with all of his charming hilarity. “Are you serious, Victor?”
“Serious?” he
leaned forward, trying to maintain a somber expression in the face of his
friend’s joviality. “Of course I’m serious! You heard about what I told Anna,
didn’t you?”
Ruben leaned
back in his chair and nodded. The raw, unfinished wood of the simple seat
groaned loudly beneath his weight. “Sure, I heard. Everyone knows about that,
old chum. It did make me wonder what it was all about.”
Victor clenched
his jaw and bowed his head. “It was the hardest thing I ever did, Ruben. Don’t
make light of it.”
Patience leaned
in and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her
appreciatively. The Carmichaels ’ house was
much as he had last seen it, except now there were none of the heavenly smells
of Patience’s cooking wafting from the table. Now there were just the four of
them—listening, talking, and wondering in that moment where life would be taking
them.
But Ruben had
never been one for wondering. He slapped the table with his open palm.
“Well, Victor,
if you’re going to Africa, then I’ll go with you!”
All three
looked wide-eyed at the bulky Irishman, uncertain at first if he was joking.
Victor shook his head in amazement. He had known Ruben long enough to know what
was running through his head at that moment. Loyalty and friendship were the
highest virtues to Ruben, and if the one best friend he had in all the world
was going to go to Africa and die there, then
he would be at his side, dying with him.
“Rube,” he
groaned, sinking his face into his hands. “You can’t make that decision because
of me. Not for my sake. This is bigger than that!” He brought his fist down on
the table for emphasis, causing the pewter mugs to jump.
Ruben was
silent for a long moment. Then he locked eyes with Victor and clenched his jaw.
“Let me tell
you something, Victor. I love my family. I love them more than life itself, and
that’s why I work day in and day out in that field out there with them. But I
don’t want my life to be like that! I don’t want to be slaving away in a field
all day long, breaking my back just to survive! That’s a noble life, but if I
have more to give, then I’m going to take every step I can to give it all! I
want my life to count for something! You always had that chance with medicine.
I can’t be a doctor, we both know that. But I can plod—I can give everything
I’ve got to go the distance, to make something work, no matter what the cost.
If your legs break in Africa , Victor, then
I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
He had bolted
up from his chair halfway through the impassioned speech and was pacing around
the room like a madman, his face red and his chest heaving.
Victor paused
for a moment, glancing at the others before responding. John merely sat back in
his seat, watching impassively, but in his eye was that magical
twinkle—something inside him was dancing. Patience was watching Ruben with a
mystified expression, half in wonder and half in concern. Even Victor was
surprised—very rarely had he seen his friend like this. But whenever it
happened, he knew well enough to listen, because what had been said was from
the heart.
“Ruben—there
are other places to make a difference. Do you know what the life expectancy for
an Englishman in Africa is? Less than a year!
Don’t come with me unless you know what you’re getting into.”
“Victor,” he
breathed out, lowering his voice a notch, “I’ve been looking for something to
fight for all my life. And in the past few days here…listening to Patience and
John, they gave me the banner to fight under. And now you’ve given me the
battlefield. Don’t deny me the chance to stand with you. I know the risks!”
“But if the
Lord hasn’t called you there—”
“Hasn’t he
called all of us?” Ruben leaned down, his face inches away from his friend’s. “You
may not think much of my memory, old friend, but I still have one or two of
those old Sunday lessons stuck up here. I know that God gave us his command, to
go and spread the Good News to every people, every land. Wasn’t that the very
last thing Jesus said to us? Now it seems to me that if I know of the plight of
these people in Africa, who have never heard that Good News, and I know that
Christ commanded us to take his word to them, then isn’t that calling enough? I
would think that those who sit here in England would need to ascertain
their special calling from God to remain at home! No, I’m going with you!”
And Victor knew
it was over. He marveled at his friend, who in the heat of having his first
reaction challenged had managed to reason his way to the noblest argument for
missionary service that Victor had ever heard. Ruben had made up his mind, and
no amount of debate would change him now, no matter who was speaking. Victor
doubted that even the promise of a blossoming romance with Patience would be
enough to hold him back.
He leaned back
in his seat and threw up his hands. “Alright, Rube,” he chuckled. “You’ve got
me. But,” his tone became imperious, “you’re too impulsive, Ruben, and you know
it, and I know it. If you have second thoughts about this down the road, you
tell me before we’re past the point of no return.”
Ruben flashed
his winsome smile. “I passed that point the moment you told me you were going.
I’m in this all the way.”
He stretched
out his hand. It hung there for a moment while Victor looked at him, as if
sizing up his determination. Finally, he stood, took a deep breath, and grasped
his friend’s hand.
“Alright, but
we start today.”
“Today?”
Ruben’s eyes opened wide.
“We’re going to
London, old friend. One o’clock, our coach pulls out. I’ll pay for your
ticket.”
“What’s in London ?”
“The London
Missionary Society, that’s what. And you and I will be signing up for Africa .”
Ruben’s grin
was wider than ever now. “Africa .”
John and
Patience released a simultaneous breath, glancing at one another and smiling.
The minister stood, taking one of the young men under each massive arm.
“May the Lord
bless you and keep you, lads. May he make his face to shine upon you, and give
you peace. You are in his hands.”